


hunger is the purest sin

by platinum_firebird



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Seduction to the Dark Side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinum_firebird/pseuds/platinum_firebird
Summary: After an explosion severely injures his Master, Jedi Padawan Bakugo Katsuki decides to take going after the Anzat girl they're hunting into his own hands.The temptation she presents will offer him a deadly choice - the decision between Light and Dark.
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Toga Himiko
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: Fic In A Box





	1. hunger is the purest sin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NekoMida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoMida/gifts).



> I loved this prompt as soon as I saw it - SITH LORDS! 
> 
> For reference:  
> Master Hakamada = Best Jeanist  
> Master Yagi = All Might  
> Master Kayama = Midnight
> 
> Title is from [White Foxes by Susanne Sundfor](https://youtu.be/rVEgCw5IIuQ), which is kinda a mood for this fic.

They had been talking to him for no more than two minutes, and Bakugo already wanted to shove his lightsaber through the shopkeeper’s thick forehead.

“Yeah, I seen the dead guy,” the man was saying, scratching at his ear. “Lying out in front of my shop when I opened in the morning. Bad for business, y’know! So, I think to myself, I’ll just move him round the back, won’t do no harm… but the cops get here, and suddenly _I’m_ the bad guy, for ‘disturbing the crime scene’ or some shit.”

His master, calm as ever, seemed unruffled by the man’s lack of reverence for the law. “Did it seem as if the man had fallen there, or like he’d been dragged?”

The shopkeeper tilted his head, thinking painfully slow. “Yeah, looked like he’d fallen,” he said after an agonising minute. “Just tripped over and fallen on his face. Thought he was drunk, when I first saw him.”

“I see. And there was nothing else unusual, aside from the body?”

“Nah, nothing weird.”

“Very good. Well, thank you for your time, Mr Kobado.”

Once they were off down the street out of earshot, Bakugo spat, “That was a waste of fucking time.”

Master Hakamada sighed. “Patience, padawan. We must cover every angle.”

“By the time we’ve covered all these _angles_ , more people could be dead.”

“Yes, that is a risk we’re taking,” Master Hakamada said, nimbly dodging to avoid a trio of drunk Chadra-Fan who swerved into his path. “But if our quarry is the type of creature that Master Nezu believes it to be, too blunt an approach could cause them to go to ground. We must close the net slowly, cutting off all means of escape before facing the creature head on.”

There was a lot he’d like to say to that - but for once, Bakugo managed to bite his tongue. When his master took that tone, it meant his mind was made up, and nothing Bakugo could say would change it.

He did roll his eyes at his back, though. _Hard._

“I don’t have to see you to know you’re doing that, padawan.”

Bakugo scoffed, and opened his mouth to snap something in reply - when something screamed in his mind, something that sounded like _run_ and _move_ and _get away_ all overlapping together. He saw his master move, saw his hand reach out-

And then the line of storefronts to their right exploded outward.

Master Hakamada’s hand hit Bakugo square in the chest, sending him back with a _push_ from the Force. Bakugo sailed through the air, hit a wall at the opposite side of the street, and slid down to crumple on the permacrete, his head ringing. For long seconds every bone in his body felt alive with pain; then he realised that he was unconsciously tapping into the Force, experiencing the fear and injuries of everyone around him. He forced that gate in his mind closed, shut out everything except himself, and found that he was able to climb unsteadily to his feet.

The street was a disaster zone. Chunks of rubble and great metal girders littered the street from where the stores had been blown apart, along with a weird variety of items that had once been sold in said stores - and, Bakugo saw with a lurch in his stomach, bodies. Both moving and unmoving, bodies littered the street, the permacrete painted with blood in several different hues.

 _Master_.

Forcing down the nausea that threatened to overcome him, Bakugo let his feet carry him back to where they’d been standing, scrambling over rubble and broken furniture and he didn’t even know what else. _He’ll be fine. He’s a_ Jedi _, for fuck’s sake. He’ll be fine._

When he finally laid eyes on him, Bakugo’s heart nearly stopped. “Master!”

Covered in dust, blood dripping out of a head wound, and a long piece of metal sticking grotesquely out of his shoulder, Master Hakamada looked most of the way to dead. Bakugo thought he _was_ dead - but then he coughed, and let out a long groan. “Bakugo,” he rasped, his voice rough as sandpaper.

Bakugo hopped down into the rubble by his side. What he’d feared was a metal girder was actually part of a light fixture, something that must have been blown out of the building along with all the broken glass Bakugo was currently kneeling in. But it had still shot straight through his master’s shoulder like a javelin, and he was losing a lot of blood.

Bakugo shoved down his fear, letting the more rational side of his brain take over. His master was alive. His master was alive, and now they needed to get the fuck out of here.

Bakugo used a scrap of fabric from his master’s tattered robe to wipe the blood and dust from both their faces, then tore a somewhat cleaner strip from his own robe to use as a bandage around Hakamada’s head wound. “Bakugo… the civilians,” his master said, sounding woozy, as Bakugo fastened the makeshift bandage.

“Later,” Bakugo said shortly. Hakamada wasn’t under any rubble, so with a little assistance from the Force, he’d be easy to lift; if Bakugo could get him to the end of the street, he could call in the medical droid from their ship to come and assist him.

It was then that he heard someone scream.

Bakugo’s head shot up. A Twi’lek girl with green skin was scrambling over the rubble, her face contorted in fear. Behind her, a man had emerged in the hole where one of the storefronts had been, grinning from ear to ear. He lifted one hand and levelled a blaster at the retreating girl’s back.

Without pausing to think, Bakugo shot out a hand and _pushed_. The guy screamed, flying backward into the darkness of the destroyed store.

“Bakugo,” Master Hakamada rasped, clutching his ankle.

“Stay here, there’s some sleemos looting or something,” Bakugo said, shaking off his hand. He looked at the Twi’lek girl, who’d stopped to stare between him and the spot where the guy had been, and yelled, “Get out of here!” at her. As she scrambled to obey, Bakugo clambered over the rubble toward the gaping hole in the building in front of him, unhooking his lightsaber from his belt.

He heard a voice inside yell, “Jarv!”, and several more cry out in concern or angry fear. Bakugo blinked as he stepped through into the dark building from the glare of the day outside, his eyes adjusting to the light. Casting out with his Force sense, he could feel five signatures - four tense and alert, and one mostly unconscious, mind swirling with pain.

“Who the fuck are you?” another voice asked, and Bakugo saw a Nikto standing by the remains of the counter, blaster raised.

“That’s my line,” he said, thumbing his lightsaber’s activation button without pressing it. “You do this?” He nodded at the destruction behind him.

“Yeah, and we’ll blow you the fuck up too if you don’t scram.”

“We’re just here to collect a few items,” another voice said. A human man had risen from behind a display table that had fallen on its side, a blaster in his hand as well. “I doubt the owner will notice they’re gone,” he said, giving Bakugo a sly smile.

A surge of hot, sick anger coiled in Bakugo’s chest. “You did all this just so you could steal some shit?” he demanded.

“What’re you gonna do about it, idiot?” the Nikto said, “Arrest us?”

“Nah,” Bakugo said, feeling anger burn like fire, like _energy_ , out from his chest and down through to his fingertips. He ignited his lightsaber, the cool blue blade illuminating the dark shop. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Both the thugs started shooting, but Bakugo was too quick for them. Deflecting the shots with his blade, he jumped, using the Force to throw himself forward into the air. The blade of his lightsaber cut through the human’s neck with no resistance, and his head went bouncing away as his body crumpled. The Nikto screamed, firing wildly, and Bakugo pivoted on one foot, striking out with the blade. The Nikto was close enough that the strike bisected him cleanly, cutting off his scream.

It should have been sickening. Deep down, Bakugo knew he should be feeling sick, or scared, or guilty, maybe. But the street outside flashed through his mind’s eye. The bodies, trapped under the rubble; his master, skewered on a piece of metal; the Twi’lek girl’s face, twisted with terror-

They’d done that. They deserved this.

The man he’d sent flying was on the floor behind the counter, unmoving. As Bakugo paused, looking at him, the door to the shop’s back room burst open, and someone came out firing. Bakugo threw up his lightsaber, deflecting the shots as he jumped backwards to give himself room to breathe. He dropped down behind the counter, and the shots quickly stopped.

Bakugo could feel the person standing there, feel their fear and anger as they ducked back into the store room. There was another person in there too, more distant from the door. Bakugo frowned, thinking. Leaping through the doorway and swinging for the man hiding behind the wall would leave him open to the other thug’s attack. He could try stabbing the man through the wall-

Something small and round knocked against his foot. When he looked down, Bakugo felt his heart soar. Of course; this was a shady store in a shady town that some thugs were robbing in broad daylight. It made sense that it was in fact an arms dealership.

Grinning like a madman, Bakugo took the thermal detonator and threw it, using the Force to guide it straight through the open store room door. “Fire in the hole!” he yelled, using the Force to propel himself backward out of the building.

Which was a good plan, since the thermal detonator set off a chain reaction of explosions in the store room, bringing the entire building crashing down.

When the rubble finally settled, dust swirling in the hot air, Bakugo straightened from where he’d been crouched next to Master Hakamada, protecting him with a Force shield. “Threat neutralised, master,” Bakugo said, still grinning.

Master Hakamada’s eyes were closed; Bakugo couldn’t tell if he’d slipped into unconsciousness, or if he was just gathering the correct words to chastise Bakugo for his ‘recklessness’.

A heavy sigh from behind them beat him to it. “Young Bakugo,” Master Yagi’s voice said, “What have you done this time?”

/

The street didn’t look any better later in the day, even with the dying light of sunset casting deep enough shadows to hide some of the destruction from sight. The entire area had been cordoned off and all the victims transported to medcentres, and with a bit of chivvying from Master Yagi, the lax local governor had begun to hire people who would start clearing up the destruction tomorrow morning. Local residents were currently picking over the wreckage before the cleaning crews arrived, looking to salvage anything they could.

“I can’t believe you managed to do so much damage alone,” Todoroki said.

Bakugo glared at him. He was standing on top of a large boulder nearby, long bangs and robes flowing in the wind, outlined by the light of the setting sun like the hero from some frothy holonet flick. Not for the first time, Bakugo wondered if he consciously posed like that. “Shut up. This wasn’t my fucking fault.”

“That was,” Todoroki said, nodding to the pile of rubble that had once been an arms dealership.

 _They deserved it_ , Bakugo thought, but outwardly he just scoffed. “You get made a Jedi Knight and suddenly you’re so high and mighty.”

“The only reason you’re not a Knight yet is because you blow things up instead of stopping for a second to think,” Todoroki said, which hit too close to home to bear.

“Shut _up_ , you fucking bastard,” Bakugo growled, turning away and crossing his arms.

The fact that Todoroki’s words echoed Master Hakamada’s made Bakugo want to punch something. “You fail because you rush into situations instead of using your judgement to determine the best course of action,” he’d said earlier, looking pale and wan in his bed at the medcentre.

“I didn’t _fail_ ,” Bakugo had protested hotly, “I took care of those thugs!”

“Every avoidable death is a failure, Bakugo,” Hakamada had said.

 _They deserved it,_ Bakugo had thought, but he knew what would happen if he said that. “Yes, master,” he’d muttered, glaring at the floor, and soon enough his master had told him to go help Todoroki and Midoriya with the clean-up.

Which was what the three of them were meant to be doing now, not standing around gaping at the mess. Bakugo turned back to Todoroki, who was now staring off to the side, an expression on his normally impassive face that could almost be called… soft. Following his gaze, Bakugo saw Midoriya, who’d slipped away at some point and was now kneeling on the ground next to a pair of small kids, making stupid faces and playing dolls with them, distracting them while their parents searched through the rubble. Bakugo glanced between that and Todoroki’s expression, and said, “Better stop staring, or someone will catch on.”

Todoroki turned to him, and Bakugo could tell by the slightly narrowed eyes that he was irritated. “Let’s get started,” he said.

“Yes, _Master_ Todoroki,” Bakugo sneered, which earned him another cold glare.

Bakugo was good at lightsaber dueling and Force powers - first in his class, in fact. He wasn’t good at the hearts and minds, empathetic part of being a Jedi. Momentarily at a loss, in the end he just decided to start moving rubble; it needed to be done, whether by him or the cleaning crews tomorrow, and it would be good practise controlling his telekenesis. He kept at it until the sun had completely set, even when a throbbing headache began to grow behind his forehead. He kept at it past the point it was technically too dark to see, what with the streetlights here being out; he kept it up until a tentative voice behind him said, “Um, Kacchan?”

The distraction made him drop the piece of rock he’d been floating. “Dammit!” he yelled as it hit the ground. “Deku!”

“Ah, I’m sorry! But Master Yagi said it was really time you came inside and-”

“Shut up,” Bakugo snapped, pushing past him. His headache was in full swing now, and all he wanted was to lie down in a dark room and forget about the fucking mess this day had been.

/

The next morning at breakfast, squashed in around the tiny table in the galley on board their ship, Midoriya asked, “Do you think the bombing could’ve been arranged by the Anzat? Like, to cover it’s tracks?”

“Possibly,” Todoroki said.

“They were just thugs robbing an arms dealer,” Bakugo said, still focused on his breakfast. “No ulterior motive.”

“We can’t know that for sure now, since we can’t _ask_ them,” Todoroki said, giving Bakugo a pointed look.

“Shut up, you-”

“But it would have been a great cover, if they were planning on slipping out of town,” Midoriya interrupted, speaking over Bakugo’s growled insult.

“If that’s the case, then I doubt we’ll be able to find it until it kills again,” Todoroki said.

Which would mean going back to the Temple empty-handed, and with Master Hakamada seriously wounded for nothing. “Fuck that,” Bakugo spat, “There’s no way we’re letting that monster get away.”

“Do you have a plan to find it, Kacchan?” Midoriya asked, looking at him eagerly. Todoroki also looked over at him, though his sceptical raised eyebrow said all it needed to about his opinion on Bakugo’s strategic abilities.

Thing was, Bakugo _did_ have a plan. He’d had something in mind for a few days now, something he knew Master Hakamada would not have let him try. But now Master Hakamada was in the medcentre, and with Master Yagi distracted by the clean-up effort…

“Yeah, I have a plan,” Bakugo said, grinning to himself.

“Can we help?” Midoriya asked immediately.

“No. Keep your nose out of it.”

“But Kacchan-”

“I said _no_ , you bastard-”

“Now now, boys! It’s too early in the morning for this unrest and discord!” Master Yagi’s booming voice announced, and soon enough they were heading back to the disaster zone to help once again.

That evening, though, once he knew Todoroki and Master Yagi had been in their rooms for a little while, Bakugo got up and began to dress as quietly as he could. Midoriya was on the upper bunk, and he remained unmoving, still breathing deep and even as Bakugo pulled on his boots and snuck off the ship.

The Anzat, the creature they were hunting, was parasitic in nature. It drained the brain matter of its victims - sometimes leaving them dead, other times leaving them no longer capable of thinking or taking care of themselves, depending on the strength and age of the Anzat. They weren’t _creatures_ , per say - they were as sapient and intelligent as a human or a Twi’lek - but they were driven by an inescapable hunger, an irresistible will to feed. That, in the Republic’s opinion, made many Anzat too dangerous to be left alive. Some could control the urge, or were content staying on their homeworld; but others relished the hunt, revelled in the kill.

The one they’d been hunting here was certainly one of the latter, based on how many lives it had claimed.

But the quality of the victim was as much important as the quantity. Bakugo had read up on Anzat on the trip over, and had learnt that above all, they favoured Force users as victims. Not only did the ‘taste’ supposedly improve with the strength of one’s abilities, but an Anzat who drained a Force user would be able to use part of their power as their own. The more Force users they drained, the stronger they would become.

Simply put, Bakugo himself was the perfect bait.

He skulked through the back alleys of what passed for downtown in this dump, avoiding the groups of thugs and mercenaries who waited around every corner. It was annoying, being in the scummy, dirty ass end of nowhere in the Outer Rim - but then again, better than an assignment involving sleazy politicians or planetary dignitaries. Bakugo was noticeably better at catching mercs and tracking spice runners than making polite conversation over vol au vons.

A sound came from behind him - a crash, like someone had tipped over a can of trash. Bakugo whirled, lightsaber in hand-

And found Midoriya standing behind him, an overturned can of trash at his feet.

Bakugo swore. _Loudly_. “Deku, what the fuck,” he growled, relaxing his grip on his ‘saber.

“You snuck out!” Midoriya protested, “I couldn’t let you go alone!”

“You think the fact I didn’t wake you up means I wanted you to come, huh?”

“You can’t hunt the Anzat by yourself,” Midoriya said.

Bakugo rolled his eyes. Trust Deku to sneak around behind his back and fuck everything up. “I don’t need you to-”

Of course, that was the moment Midoriya yelled, “Behind you!” at the exact same time the Force screamed a warning that he felt like fire all the way through his nerves.

On instinct Bakugo ignited his lightsaber and swung around, letting it slice through the air as he turned. He caught the shape of a humanoid figure behind him as they managed to arrest their forward motion and dodge backward, avoiding the blade. Bakugo tensed, preparing to run after them - until a beam of red light illuminated the darkness.

For a second Bakugo just stopped, blinking. _A red lightsaber?_ That was the weapon of a-

“You’re pretty good, Jedi,” a girl’s voice said. The glow from the lightsaber picked out the planes of her face in bloodstained shadows, making her look like some horrific ancient mural come to life.

 _A Sith Anzat?_ Bakugo thought, widening his stance and gripping his lightsaber with both hands, waiting for her to make a move. Just an Anzat had been bad enough, but one wielding a lightsaber…

“Won’t you let me drink from you, though?” she cooed, taking a menacing step forward. She licked her lips, and then grinned. “You look like you’d be _tasty_.”

“You can fucking try,” Bakugo growled.

She came at him, all light grace and lightning fast moves. They were well-matched, the two of them - his solid stance to her fluid motion, his natural strength to her breathtaking speed. But she’d had longer to learn, to practise, to _absorb_ the knowledge of those she’d stolen from; she was better, and Bakugo knew he was fighting a losing battle about fifteen seconds into their fight.

Not that that meant he was gonna _give up_.

He could hear blaster shots and the humming of another lightsaber behind him, which he assumed meant the Anzat had brought backup. Hopefully Midoriya would be able to deal with them by himself; if he died, Bakugo would _definitely_ be in trouble.

The Anzat jumped away and then stalked, cat-like, through the shadows on the other side of the alley. “You’re fun,” she said, and Bakugo was surprised to hear a giggle issue from her mouth.

“I’m gonna fucking _end you_ ,” he yelled, leaping forward; but she just bounced away, jumping up to the top of the small wall that bordered the alley. Bakugo jumped after her, but she kept going, jumping from roof to wall to balcony, leaping light as a feather and _giggling_ the entire time.

“You’re pretty angry for a Jedi,” she said, white teeth flashing as she grinned at him.

Like he hadn’t heard _that_ one before. He tossed his ‘saber, aiming for her head, but she twirled out of the way at the last second.

“What makes you so mad, Jedi?” she asked, running along a balcony’s railing like a tightrope artist. “What happened to ‘there is no emotion, there is peace’?”

“Shut up!” Bakugo yelled. He broke several potted plants as he landed on the balcony and ran along it, trying to keep up as she jumped to the next roof. “Get back here!”

“‘There is no passion, there is serenity’,” the Anzat quoted, laughing.

“Fucking _die_!”

She jumped onto the next building, alighting right on the ridgeline, the highest point of the triangular roof. “Come get me!” she called, and Bakugo leapt, landing on the broken stone tiles-

There was an almighty _crack_ , and suddenly his footing was gone, and Bakugo was falling. He didn’t even have time to shake off the shock and reach for the Force before he’d landed with a _thud_ , cracking his head on the floor. For a second his whole body screamed in pain, and all he could do was lie there, choking.

The Anzat’s face appeared in the hole he’d fallen through. “Oh dear, looks like the rafters had rotted right through,” she said, beaming down at him. “Lucky I landed on this beam, isn’t it?”

“You fucking-” Bakugo managed to get out.

She dropped down to land lightly on the floor beside him. “I’m Himiko Toga,” she said, still beaming. “What’s your name, Jedi?”

“As if I’d tell you- bitch-”

“Don’t be like that,” she said, pouting - and then she went to her knees straddling his chest, leaning over so that her face was uncomfortably close. “You’re pretty cute, Jedi. I like you.”

“Get off-”

“It’s okay if you won’t tell me your name,” she said, taking his chin in her hand, “Because I’ll just find out what it is, okay?” She grinned, and Bakugo watched with a lurch in his stomach as two small porous holes on either side of her nose dilated, allowing slender little tendrils to creep forth. “I’d _really_ like to drink from you,” the girl whispered, her voice gone low and breathy. The little tendrils extended, waving in front of Bakugo’s face and brushing against his skin. He tried to wriggle backward, knowing that those little tentacles were what the Anzat used to drain people’s brains from their skulls, but the girl had a deceptively strong grip on his shoulder.

Then she giggled, and the two wriggling tendrils retracted. “But that wouldn’t be nearly as fun as making you wait,” she whispered. So quick that Bakugo barely registered it, soft, cold lips brushed against his; then the Anzat’s weight was gone, and he heard her laughing as she jumped up to the hole in the roof and disappeared.

“Fuckin- get back-” But Bakugo’s mind was going fuzzy, black creeping in around the corners of his vision- and it occurred to him that no one knew where the hell he was, and he was too injured to stand…

 _Fuck_ , was his last, succinct thought before he lost consciousness.

/

Bakugo dreams of blue light and water; weightless, floating. Bubbles, rising around him like clouds, their sides limned with a thousand different colours. Sometimes he thinks he sees faces, peering through the murk, their features on the edge of familiar. But mostly he dreams of the glow, emanating from everywhere, all around him, soft and blue and cool, and he can’t be sure if what he sees is a vision or just the Force, made real and concrete before his eyes.

Bakugo dreams of the Anzat girl, soaring through the air like a bird, the train of her long white dress flying out behind her in the wind.

/

When he woke in a hospital bed, Bakugo realised the ‘dreams’ weren’t visions, or the Force, or anything like that - he’d just been in a bacta tank for a few days, floating in the viscous liquid and blue light. The med-droid told him he had a head injury and a minor concussion, both of which were on the mend, as well as bad bruising and a few small fractures that the bacta had healed. It told him they were on their way back to Coruscant.

“What about Deku and Master Hakamada?” Bakugo asked. His tongue felt thick and wooden in his mouth.

The med-droid gestured, and when Bakugo painfully turned his head, he could see his master floating in a bacta tank of his own, his eyes closed. “To speed the healing of his shoulder and prevent infection,” the med-droid told him.

“And Deku?”

“I do not know the being designated as ‘Deku’.”

“Midoriya,” Bakugo gritted out.

“He suffered only minor injuries,” the med-droid said. “Now, I must recommend that you go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want-” Bakugo started; then he felt his eyelids droop. The stupid droid had given him a dose of sedative, and in seconds Bakugo was too tired to even open his mouth. He sunk back into unconsciousness soon after.

/

He sees the Anzat girl again and again, floating through the black void with stars burning behind her. In some dreams she leaps from the pinnacle of one tower to the next, flying above a strange building formed of black crystal or stone, some combination of cathedral and palace fused together in a chaotic and beautiful mish-mash of styles, all floating dark against the backdrop of a deep blue planet. Sometimes he hears her voice, whispering her name through the emptiness between them. _I am Himiko Toga_ , she says, like a breath of wind against the surface of his mind. _I’m going to find you, Jedi._

/

The Council meeting to discuss their mission did not go well.

Despite being told the Council would gladly meet him in his infirmary room, Master Hakamada insisted on attending the meeting in the Council room, and only allowed himself the accommodation of being provided a chair.

The issue of Bakugo’s killing the criminals who’d blown up the arms dealership was mostly brushed aside, although he was reprimanded for blowing up the entire building, as well as not taking the thugs alive. The Council were rightly more concerned with the appearance of an Anzat wielding a lightsaber. “Did she use any other Force abilities, that you saw?” Master Nezu asked.

“She was using the Force to jump, maybe,” Bakugo said. “But she didn’t use telekinesis, or anything else that I noticed.”

“No lightning?” Master Kayama asked, which earned her a sharp look from some of the other Masters.

“No,” Bakugo said slowly.

Master Nezu sighed. “Well, despite the information this has brought us, I’m afraid the Council can’t approve of your methods, Padawan. You placed yourself and another Padawan in serious danger, and your interference meant we lost our chance of bringing this Anzat to justice - not to mention abandoning another Jedi in the field in the attempt to chase her down.”

At the mention of the other Jedi, Bakugo glanced sideways at Deku, who was standing beside him with Master Yagi. “I thought Deku could handle some thugs on his own,” he muttered.

“One of them was a Mandalorian,” Midoriya said. It was hard to read his tone, to tell if he felt betrayed that Bakugo had left him behind, or if he thought he’d done the right thing.

Well, either way, it wasn’t like Bakugo cared.

“I was focused on the lady with the f- with the lightsaber,” Bakugo said.

“To the detriment of your awareness of the situation around you,” Master Hakamada said in a low voice. He sighed. “It’s something we can improve with training, Bakugo.”

More training. That likely meant less mission time, and an even longer wait before he’d be considered ready to be promoted to the rank of Knight. Bakugo managed to grit his teeth and say nothing, though only because they were still in the middle of the Council room.

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to review the mission and begin extra training while Master Hakamada recovers,” Master Nezu said. “In the meantime, there are things we need to speak of alone, Master Yagi, Padawan Midoriya.” He nodded at Bakugo, and clearly their time in the Council room was up. Bakugo gave them all the shallowest bow he could get away with, then let Master Hakamada lean on him as they made their way back to his room in silence. “I will need to rest for a few hours now,” Master Hakamada said, sitting down on his bed. He sounded far more tired than he had in the Council room. “We’ll be here a few weeks, so you should see if there are any short courses being run that you could take in the meantime.”

Bakugo couldn’t help the hiss of frustration that left his mouth, even when it earned him a _look_ from Master Hakamada. “Fine,” he said, then stormed out of his Master’s rooms before he could give him any more homework to do.

Instead of heading in the direction of the classrooms, though, Bakugo went down to the Padawan’s Training Dojo. It was full at this time of day, but Bakugo still managed to find a corner to practise in. It helped clear his head, to go through the katas and different forms, practising the cut and swing and jump and dodge. He tried to go through it faster, trying to match the speed the Anzat had achieved. _If she’s coming to find me, I need to be stronger_ , he thought, his blade making a blue arc in front of him.

He worked until it was late evening, hit the showers, and got down to the dining hall just as they were closing up. They apologised and gave him a token that would allow him to get a meal in the dining hall several levels above, usually only open to Knights and Masters, where they served food all day and all night. Luckily no one challenged him on his presence up there - not that he would’ve left, but still, no hassle was nice - but all this meant that by the time he got back to his corridor in the padawan dorms it was already gone midnight.

He’d expected everyone to be in bed, but when he turned the corner into his hall, he saw that a group were still gathered in the common room at the other end of the corridor. They all looked happy and excited, like they were celebrating something. Bakugo had no intention of joining in; but of course, the universe wasn’t kind enough to just let him get to his door without being seen.

“Kacchan,” Midoriya’s voice said behind him as he was unlocking the door.

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “What.”

“I just…I just wanted…”

Deku was, as usual, having trouble spitting it out. Bakugo turned back to him with a scowl and asked, “What the hell’s got you all so excited, anyway?”

Midoriya hesitated for a second, then squared his shoulders and said, “Tsuyu and I have been picked to run the Trials next week.”

For a moment Bakugo could only blink, trying to process that statement. Tsuyu was no surprise, she’d been ready to run the Trials for ages now - but Deku? “You.”

“Yes. Me.” Midoriya took a deep breath and continued, “The Council said being able to fight off that Mandalorian and get you back to safety showed I might be ready to become a Knight.”

The words _become a Knight_ echoed inside Bakugo’s head, bouncing around in there like a ping pong ball. “You,” he said again, the word coming out as more of a growl this time.

“Yes. And I just wanted- I wanted to say sorry. Because I know you fought off that Anzat and chased her and I thought you made the right decision even though it left me alone and she might have been a Sith and you survived fighting her and I just thought the Council ought to have offered you the chance as well so-”

“Get out of my way,” Bakugo snarled, shoving past him.

“Wait- Kacchan-”

“Go away!” Bakugo yelled at him, and took off running.

He needed to be away. He needed to be out, out of this damn Temple and all the walls and corridors, confining and constricting around him like a vice.

/

If he’d expected getting out of the Temple and into the city to dull his anger a little, he found out pretty soon that he’d been wrong. Coruscant’s streets were as messy and lively and chaotic as usual, a place to get lost in, a place where you could do anything and be anything you wanted to be - except Bakugo _couldn’t_ be what he wanted, because he wanted to be a Jedi Knight, and only those approved by the Council could take the Trials and ascend to the honour of that rank. If he never managed to impress them, kept falling short of their expectations and failing, he might be stuck as a padawan forever. Or worse, get kicked out of the Order entirely.

Bakugo hung his legs off the edge of a rooftop, brooding as he gazed out over the buzzing crowd on the street below. He pointedly faced away from the Temple, but he could still feel it there, as if the weight of it was bearing down on his back.

He was good enough to be a Jedi. He was better than every other padawan in his stupid class. Either the Council were being obtuse, or they were deliberately holding him back.

Bakugo didn’t react when he heard something move on the rooftop behind him. There were all sorts of vermin in this part of the city, lothcats and gerra-rats and even stray akk, sometimes.

He did react when the sounds resolved into footsteps. He jumped to his feet and turned, hand on his lightsaber - and froze.

The Anzat.

 _Toga,_ his mind supplied, _Himiko Toga._

She was grinning from ear to ear, and Bakugo couldn’t tell if her teeth were really that sharp, or if it was just his imagination. “I said I’d find you,” she trilled, slinking closer.

His instinct was to step back, but he was already at the edge of the roof. “How the hell did you get here.”

“It wasn’t that much of a leap to guess you’d come home once your mission was done,” Himiko said, nodding to the Temple that dominated the skyline. “You look sad, Katsuki.” When Bakugo flinched, her eyes lit up. “That is your name, isn’t it? I saw it in the news broadcast on that nasty little planet. Katsuki Bakugo, right?”

“What the fuck do you want?” Bakugo asked.

“You seem fun,” she said, “I want to play with you.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Bakugo said, thumbing the activation button on his lightsaber. He wanted to turn it on, but the memory of how easily she’d fought last time gave him pause.

“You seem unhappy with the Jedi,” Himiko said, and despite himself Bakugo flinched. That was too close to the bone. “The Jedi are kinda stuffy, right? They want everyone to play by their rules, and do things like _they_ want.” She turned away, almost skipping to the other side of the roof. “I don’t like playing by other people’s rules, Katsuki. I like doing things _my_ way.” She grinned at him over her shoulder. “I think you’d like playing by my rules, too.”

“You don’t know shit about me,” Bakugo said.

“I can see you’re angry. I can feel it, when you reach out with the Force. Bright, fiery anger, like a boiling sea all rolling around inside of you.” She giggled as she tilted her head to the side. “The Jedi don’t like that, right?”

Bakugo finally gave in to the temptation to turn his lightsaber on, though he didn’t immediately swing it at her. Just the low humming sound, the vibration in his hand, was a comfort. “What the hell do you know about the Jedi?”

“I know their code,” she said, turning back to him. “I know it’s not a great fit for you, right?” She took a step forward, her grin almost feral. “‘No emotion, there is peace’? But you were built for emotion, weren’t you?”

“Shut up,” Bakugo said, raising his lightsaber. Every instinct was telling him to attack, to shut her up while he had the chance; but something in him hesitated, listening to her words. Deep down inside his chest, it felt like something had pricked up it’s ears.

“Do you know what the Sith Code says? ‘Peace is a lie, there is only passion’,” Himiko quoted. “Doesn’t that sound kind of like you?”

“I’m not a fucking Sith,” Bakugo said.

“Not yet,” Himiko purred, “Maybe it’s time to find a place you fit better, Katsuki.”

“Shut up, I know what you’re doing. You just want to get me alone so you can eat my brain.”

“Your brain would be _very_ tasty,” she said, showing off her teeth again. “But I think you might be even more interesting to me in other ways.” She spread her hands and said, “Besides, we’re alone right now. I could kill you if I wanted, right?”

“That’s enough,” Bakugo said, “I’m arresting you now.” _That’ll show the Council who’s ready to take the damn Trials._ He leapt forward, swinging his ‘saber, but Himiko dodged backward, out of reach.

“Why don’t you come have a little fun with me, Katsuki?” she said, then she hopped off the roof.

Bakugo followed her down into the street, turning his lightsaber off as he fell so that he didn’t accidentally decapitate some innocent citizen. He caught sight of Himiko ahead of him as he landed, weaving through the crowd, and followed her; but even though he barged through gaps and elbowed people out of his way, she always managed to keep too far ahead for him to reach out and grab her. They wound through the bustling crowds of the city, past various bright shops and cantinas, the air full of neon light and the smell of smoke. Every so often Himiko would flash him a smile over her shoulder, as if she were mocking his inability to get close.

Suddenly he saw her turn off into a small alleyway. For a second triumph rushed through his chest - followed by a flash of foreboding. She was too good to have made a rookie mistake; if she was going somewhere they’d be alone and unobserved, then she had a plan in mind.

Still, he shouldered through the crowd and turned off into the dark alley he’d seen her go down.

Then he stopped, frozen at the mouth of the alley.

Himiko was there alright; but she wasn’t alone. A Zabraki man was slumped on his knees before her, gazing up at her with an expression of awe - even as her dancing, delicate tendrils slid up his nostrils toward his brain.

Bakugo couldn’t move, caught in a mix of horror and fascination as the man’s eyes rolled back in his head. His brain matter was literally being sucked out of his skull cavity, and yet he didn’t look scared or in pain; instead the expression on his face was _pleasure_ , like he was in the throws of ecstasy. Across from him, their faces nearly touching, Himiko’s expression was all feral _hunger_ , her lips pulled back over her teeth in both a smile and a snarl.

She was _consuming_ him.

The thought suddenly brought life back to Bakugo’s limbs, and he activated his lightsaber, trying to ignore the way his hand shook. Himiko’s eyes slid to him as he raised the weapon, and then that smile was turned on him. “Don’t you think it’s beautiful, Katsuki?” she said, her eyes almost glowing in the dark, “How happy they are at the end?”

“Let go of him,” Bakugo said, but his voice didn’t sound like himself. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Himiko’s tendrils, even as they retracted and let the man drop to the dirty alley floor.

“Do you wonder,” she asked, her voice low and sultry, “what it feels like, when I drink from someone?” She took a step closer, those delicate tendrils now reaching out to him. “Do you want me to drink from you, Katsuki?”

 _Yes_ , a little, hypnotised part of him said, at the same time as a warning like cold ice shot up and down his spine. He pointed his lightsaber at her, filling the space between them and arresting her advance. “Stop,” he said, the word cold and flat.

Himiko gave him a wide smile, and ran her tongue over her sharp teeth. “Good,” she said, “You wouldn’t be interesting if I could brainwash you with a look, just like all the other boys.” And in a blink she was gone, dashing away to the other end of the alley. Bakugo rushed after her, but the alley opened onto another busy street, and by the time he reached it she’d melted away into the flow of people, leaving him empty-handed, confused - and deep down, just a little bit _intrigued._

/

There was a message waiting for him on his personal terminal when he finally got back from taking Himiko’s victim to a medcentre. It wasn’t signed, and had been sent from a public terminal, making it untraceable; but Bakugo didn’t need a signature to know who it was from.

 _I’ll be waiting for you,_ the message said. _Come find me._ And then a set of coordinates.

At first Bakugo was determined to delete it. Then he thought he should give the information to Master Hakamada. He’d get the credit for discovering another lead on the Anzat and, as they saw it, having the sense to defer to his ‘betters’ about what should be done.

Even the thought rankled. The idea of sitting back and watching others claim the glory while _knowing_ he could’ve been the one to bring in the Anzat- No. There was no way he could just sit back and watch. Capturing Himiko would be a tough task, but she was interested in him for something, and seemed to want him alive. He could use that to his advantage.

And forget taking the Trials - if he could capture or kill a Sith Lord, they’d probably make him a Jedi Knight right then and there.

The only problem was getting hold of a ship. Taking anything out of the Temple’s hangars was an impossibility - he’d never even be able to take off without the right documents. He didn’t have the money to hire a ship, and the coordinates Himiko had sent him led to a blank space on the starmap, so there was no possibility of hitching a ride or buying a ticket on a starliner. After thinking it over, he realised his only option would be theft.

He was an old hand at sneaking out of the Temple; some of the older padawans had shown him how when he was only fourteen, and he’d had a lot of practise since then. Slightly harder was getting down into the sublevels without leaving a record of his passing, but sneaking onto a transport shuttle going down into the Undercity did the trick.

Down here the natural light was replaced by flickering street lamps and ever-present glowing neon in a thousand different shades; down here you had to keep an eye on your back and a hand on your weapon at all times. Bakugo moved through the streets slowly, affecting an easy walk even as he probed the Force signatures of those around him for any ill intent. He found plenty, but none directed at him.

There were fewer spaceports down here than on the surface, as ships had to access the Undercity through the huge service tunnels that led down here from the upper levels. Still, it was much cheaper to leave a ship down here, though what you gained in spare change you lost in security. Bakugo crouched down on top of an air vent, scoping out the small private dock he’d earmarked as his target. Surrounded by fences, with an automatic entry gate and a guard post. No one was on patrol, though, and none of the fences were electrified. _Child’s play_ , Bakugo thought, and slipped down off the roof. He scrambled over the fence and snuck through the shadows under the line of ships, aiming for an old freighter that looked good enough to fly, but not polished enough to worry that the owner could afford a decent security system.

Luckily for him, he’d chosen his ship well; he managed to slice into the door control panel and get the ramp to come down without being noticed, and as far as he could tell, without setting off any alarms. He darted up into the ship and closed the ramp. It was going well so far - but the real test would be if he could get this thing off the ground. He walked to the cockpit and sat down, observing with pleasure that the owner hadn’t been able to afford a steering lock, either. Now the only hurdle would be getting it to run through the power-up cycle without the correct keycard, but Bakugo already knew how to do that.

He was expecting the comm system to start pinging at some point through the start-up, letting him know the guard had noticed one of his ships was being hijacked. It looked like the guy was either asleep or drunk, though, because Bakugo had finished pre-flight checks and was beginning to bring the ship up off the permacrete by the time the comms began to make a noise. He flicked them on and snapped, “Yeah?”

“You’re not authorised to fly that, buddy-”

“I’m taking it to my workshop for a mechanics check up,” Bakugo said, the lie coming out easily as he angled the ship upward, “Owner doesn’t want it on record, so maybe don’t file any paperwork, okay?”

“He didn’t say anything about-”

“Because he _doesn’t want it on record_ , right? Just be cool and don’t make a big deal.” With that, Bakugo flicked the comms off and gunned the engines, sending the ship shooting up toward the cavernous roof above. Whether the guard believed him or not, hopefully the exchange had confused him enough that he’d hesitate before calling the cops, if he did at all; and Bakugo would take any time he could.

He angled for the nearest service tunnel that led to the surface, dodging speeders and bikes and a lumbering transport as he went. As he broke out into the sunny sky of a Coruscanti afternoon, he checked the ship’s records for the name, and then put in a call to Corucsanti Air/Space Control. It took a long minute for the call to connect, and Bakugo joined a skylane that was bound for orbit, tapping his finger impatiently against the steering yoke. Talking to CA/SC was a boring, tedious process, but there were few ways to break orbit without going through their channels. Otherwise, you’d get shot down before you made it to a hyperlane jump point.

Luck was with Bakugo today, though, and CA/SC didn’t raise any questions about his planned trajectory or whether he owned the ship he was currently flying. They just gave him the all clear, a route to follow, and a cheery, “Have a good day sir!” as Bakugo angled the _Scavenger’s Rat_ up and out of Coruscant’s atmosphere.

 _It’s a shit name_ , he thought as he programmed the hyperdrive, _I should change it. The_ Death Murder. _No, the_ Murder Explosion. _Or the_ Death Explosion.

Thus distracted, he had little time to think about or regret what he was doing as he punched in Himiko’s coordinates and guided the ship into hyperspace.

/

The empty system Himiko wanted to meet him in was right on the edge of known space, right where Wild Space merged with the Unknown Regions. Given that, Bakugo probably should have been concerned about it being an _uncharted_ system rather than an _empty_ one, but all his focus on the trip was on practise. He spent the days in hyperspace perfecting every move, every kata, just in case it came to a fight. His plan was to make her think he was listening to her, make her drop her guard so that he could take her unawares, but in case that didn’t work, all he had to fall back on was his ‘saber.

The first thing he noticed about the system, when he finally arrived, was the planet. It was, at first glance, the only one orbiting the bright star that shone off in the distance. A deep, brilliant blue, it looked devoid of landmasses. Bakugo stared at it, wondering if that was where he was going to find Himiko - and saw something float across the surface, a black blob, something he couldn’t make out.

The Force thrummed with foreboding in his head, but he pushed the steering yoke forward anyway.

Drawing closer, he began to make out what he’d almost been expecting to see; the strange floating cathedral-castle from his dreams, soaring high in orbit above the deep blue planet. He angled the ship in closer, hoping to make out- and there. There she was.

Himiko Toga, clad in a long, flowing white dress, floating from tower to tower like a slow, lazy dream.

 _How is she moving through the vacuum?_ Bakugo thought. As he moved the ship in closer, a low tone on the ship sounded, signalling that they’d entered an area with artificial atmosphere. After a second Bakugo spotted the shimmering edges of the atmospheric shield for himself, forming a huge bubble around the entire station. He turned back to Himiko, watching how she moved. The way she floated easily through the void suggested the bubble provided atmosphere, but no gravity; as she came closer he noticed her hands moving, and concluded she must be using the Force to push herself away and pull herself to each individual tower. It was reckless, and ballsy, and something in Bakugo couldn’t help but admire her daring. _I live by my own rules_ , Himiko’s voice said in his head.

As he looked at her, he was startled to realise the pained feeling in his chest was _longing._

He turned abruptly away, and used the ship’s scanners to find a suitable place to land. He found a long, thin landing platform and set the ship down, engaging the magnetic locks as well - just in case. The indicators said there was both atmosphere and gravity on the landing platform, so Bakugo stepped out, breathing in the stale, cool air of the unfamiliar station.

Himiko didn’t appear from the sky, as he’d been expecting her to, but from the huge half-open doors that led inside. “I was hoping you’d jump out of your ship and come fly with me,” she said, giving him a sly smile.

“I’m not gonna leave my ship to crash, idiot,” Bakugo snapped. “Now what the fuck do you want?”

“I want to show you something,” Himiko said. She turned as if to go inside, and looked back over her shoulder, beckoning him.

Trepidation roiled through the Force, almost screaming at him not to step inside - but Bakugo pushed the feeling away. He’d come to get a job done, and he was going to do it.

A sick feeling flooded his gut as soon as he stepped through the huge doors, and only grew worse as he walked into the dark corridors beyond. The only light here came from glowing red crystals set into the walls, illuminating just enough to let him see a metre or two in front of him. Himiko, skipping along ahead of him, was almost lost in the shadows. “What is this place?” he asked, and was answered only with a laugh.

The sick feeling was like bile creeping up the back of his throat; there was a sense of being watched, the feeling of eyes pressing in on him from every angle. “Himiko, where the fuck are we?” he said, and hated that there was the slightest note of fear in his voice now.

“You’ll see,” Himiko sing-songed, and kept leading him further into the maze.

By the time she finally turned and threw open a door, the feeling of being watched was like a hand pressing down on the back of Bakugo’s neck. The room he and Himiko stepped into was also illuminated in red light, but this time slightly brighter, enough that Bakugo could make out the edges of a huge, hexagon-shaped room. There were niches cut into the walls, and in every niche sat a small, triangular object of metal and glass. They glowed with the red light that suffused the room. The sick feeling was thick and black in Bakugo’s mind, and he finally realised that he was sensing it in the _Force_ , like a deep, fluid black mirror of the calm light that usually flowed through his hands when he reached out into the Force’s endless flow. _The Dark Side_ , he thought - but when he stepped back, Himiko’s hands closed like twin vices around his shoulders.

“Katsuki,” she whispered into his ear, “Why do you want to be a Jedi Knight?”

The question was so out of left field that Bakugo couldn’t answer for a moment. “I- I-”

“Do you want to help people? Or do you want to be _powerful_?” Himiko asked. “It’s okay; you can be honest with me.”

There was something seeping out of the little triangular object in the niche directly opposite him, something like black smoke creeping out and down the wall, black on black, only visible because it was moving. Bakugo’s hand grasped for his lightsaber, only to find it wasn’t there, the comforting weight gone from his belt.

“Or maybe, what you _really_ want is for people to stop looking down on you?”

Her words conjured images in his head, visions of all the times the Council or older Jedi had looked at him with exasperation and irritation; of all the times his classmates had whispered about him disdainfully behind their hands, even as they pretended to admire him whenever he was around; and, worst of all, all the times his master had given him that look of _disappointment_ , that expression that said, _You’ve failed again, padawan, just like I always expect you to._

“With our help,” Himiko said, as the black smoke crawled across the floor, “You never have to fail again. You can have the power to do _anything you want_. You can _make_ them respect you.”

Bakugo knew he should be shaking her off, but he felt frozen, a lothcat in the headlights as the black smoke inched closer. The thing that Himiko had awoken deep inside him was moving again, stretching legs and wings and digging claws deep into his flesh.

Looked down on. Passed over. A disappointment. A failure. Too loud, too reckless, too proud, too _angry_.

As if she were reading his mind - and stars, maybe she _was_ \- Himiko said, “With power like this, no one will ever get to tell you how to feel again. You can play by _your_ rules.”

The black smoke was close now. Close enough to touch.

“But you have to choose. You have to reach out to it. Take the final step.”

 _You want to be a Jedi_ , said a voice in the back of his mind, a voice that sounded eerily like Master Hakamada.

 _I want people to stop telling me what to do,_ Bakugo thought. _To stop telling me I’m always wrong. To stop_ judging _me._

In that moment he thought of Himiko as he’d seen her before, floating through the void like some kind of mythical being, weightless, flying. Free. A sharp lance of longing speared straight through his heart, and he thought, _I want to be like that. I want to be like her._

The deep, flowing darkness that ran through the Force here no longer felt like sickness; it felt like mystery, and deep, whispering promise.

He reached out his hand and touched the black smoke.

Distantly he heard Himiko laugh, and felt it as she leant up to press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

A deep, male voice echoed in Bakugo’s mind. _Hello, little Jedi. I’m glad you’re here; there’s a lot for you to learn._


	2. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

By the time they pulled out of hyperspace and into the system in which Hypo Balerad’s tracker said his ship should be located, the odious Aqualish businessman was _still_ complaining.

“It’s a significant investment,” he said from his seat behind the two of them in the cockpit. “I’m not quite sure you Jedi understand just _how_ significant an investment it is, as a matter of fact. I know that you think yourselves _above_ the concept of credits, but to normal folks like me, I assure you that losing an item of property this valuable could ruin my future prospects indefinitely! And to think that it was stolen _by a Jedi_ , of all things - it’s an outrage! And furthermore-”

Todoroki’s knuckles were bone-white where he was gripping the steering yoke, his jaw set in a way that Midoriya could tell meant he was coming to the end of even his extensive patience. When they’d set off from Coruscant, Midoriya had thought it unfair that, had another Jedi not been missing, the two of them would never have been able to spare the time to help Balerad look for his ship. Now, after spending several days in his company, Midoriya had the uncharitable thought that maybe a man as obnoxious as Balerad deserved all the bad luck the universe dealt him.

“We’re here,” Todoroki said, cutting across Balerad’s monologue. “Are you getting a signal from the tracker, Midoriya?”

“Yes,” Midoriya said, watching the scanner. He flicked through the information, seeing that the system comprised one sun and one planet, and that the signal from the tracker was coming from the latter. He gave Todoroki a vector, and he brought the ship in on it, easing them through space toward the deep blue ball that hung in the distant sky.

“The signal’s coming from the other side of the planet,” Midoriya said as they drew closer. “More towards the northern pole. It’s on vector-”

“What is that?” he heard Todoroki murmur, and he looked up.

Something black floated across the surface of the planet. At first Midoriya thought it was a ship; then as they drew closer, it became clear it was far too big for that. It was some kind of space station, shaped out of weird black stone that reflected the light of the system’s star with an oily, slick sheen. The station itself was a towering mess of grand architecture, reminding Midoriya of temples and palaces he’d seen on many different worlds.

Todoroki was peering out of the viewport, a look of quiet fascination on his face. “It incorporates styles from different architectural movements across several centuries,” he said softly, because of course he was a nerd about architectural history.

“Fine, but where is my _ship_?” Balerad whined, breaking the moment.

Midoriya focused back on the scanner. Predictably, the ship’s signal was coming from the strange space station. When he told Todoroki that, his friend was quiet for a few seconds before saying, “Can you scan it for weapon emplacements?”

As the scan ran, the three of them sat in silence, watching as the star’s light shifted and shattered across the odd curves and bizarre angles of the edifice in front of them. When the scanner beeped, Midoriya was faced with a whole board-full of red lights. “Yeah, there are a lot of weapon emplacements,” he said quietly.

“Okay. Hail them?”

Midoriya did so, and the three of them sat in that tense silence again, listening to the calling tone ring and ring and ring. Something was itching at the back of Midoriya’s mind, some awareness that he couldn’t quite put a name to, couldn’t quite understand the shape of. It felt like a warning.

After a few minutes, Midoriya ended the call to the station and switched to calling the _Scavenger’s Rat’s_ direct comm number. It rang, which meant the equipment on Balerad’s ship was undamaged - but again, no one picked up.

Midoriya was chewing on his thumbnail as he ended the second call. “Maybe Kacchan left on a different ship,” he said.

 _Or he’s a prisoner. Or he’s_ dead, said a voice in his mind.

Todoroki sighed. “We can’t leave without taking a look.”

“We certainly can’t!” Balerad exploded, “That’s my ship down there!”

Todoroki rolled his eyes, and Midoriya stifled a laugh at his expression. “I’ll take us in,” he said reluctantly, “But be ready on the guns, just in case.”

“Right,” Midoriya said, and pulled himself up out of his seat and ran to the ladder up to the gun turret. He climbed the rungs two at a time, and was sliding into the seat by the time Todoroki began flying toward the space station.

Despite their fears, the station remained silent and still as they approached and swung about to come in for a landing next to a clunky little freighter that had definitely seen better days. Given the exclamations Midoriya could hear from the cockpit, he assumed this must be the _Scavenger’s Rat_.

Todoroki brought them down and engaged the landing gear, and the three of them met at the top of the ramp. “We should check the _Scavenger’s Rat_ first, see if we can find any clues,” Midoriya said, and Todoroki nodded.

Balerad was shifting from foot to foot, wringing his hands. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll be off as soon as possible,” he said, glancing around. “This place makes me very, very nervous.”

It made Midoriya nervous, too, but he wasn’t about to admit that aloud.

“You should stay in-system for a while,” Todoroki said. “If we can, we should escort you at least part of the way home. In case of pirates.”

“Ah, yes! I will await you, then.” Balerad moved toward the ramp controls, only to pull his hand back at the last second and look to Todoroki, who nodded. “Well, forward into the breach!” he announced, hitting the button. When the ramp opened, he strode forward ahead of them, his posture stiffly upright.

“He’s afraid,” Midoriya said.

“He has good reason to be,” Todoroki said darkly.

As they followed Balerad, who had already got to the ramp of the _Scavenger’s Rat_ and begun opening it, Midoriya said, “Still, it was nice of you to offer to escort him back.”

“I’m sure he’ll be much more tolerable when we don’t have to share a cockpit with him,” Todoroki said, and the annoyance on his face made Midoriya laugh.

There turned out to be nothing of interest on the _Scavenger’s Rat_. Balerad made a lot of fuss about things being out of place, but to the Jedi’s eye, there was little to be found.

Midoriya spent a moment in the cockpit, his hand on the pilot’s seat, his senses immersed in the Force - and yes, there, he could feel the faint echo of Bakugo’s Force signature, almost as familiar to him as his own. Bakugo had been here, flying this ship.

Not that there had been much doubt before - Bakugo had been caught on camera sneaking through the small private space dock the _Scavenger’s Rat_ had been stolen from. When the Coruscanti police had received the theft report from the space dock and the missing persons report from the Jedi, both bearing the same picture, the dots had been connected - though it had taken them almost three weeks to get in contact with the Temple. Add to that the day Bakugo had been missing before they’d realised anything was amiss, the day that had been wasted debating who to send, and the five days it had taken them to get here, it meant about a month had passed since Bakugo had landed here.

“We should check the flight log,” Todoroki’s voice said from behind him.

“I just did,” Midoriya said quietly. “He didn’t make any stops or detours. He flew straight here from Coruscant.”

“Someone must have given him these coordinates,” Todoroki said.

“Yeah, but who? And why?”

Todoroki sighed. “We’re going to have to check out the space station.”

Midoriya shuddered. That feeling at the back of his mind was getting stronger, like a low, constant muttering, telling him to _get out_ , _get away_ -

Todoroki must have been able to read his feelings on his face, because he said, “I know. But we can’t risk leaving Bakugo here alone.”

“No,” Midoriya agreed, because that outcome was simply unthinkable. If Bakugo was here, they were going to save him.

“Let’s go, then,” Todoroki said, “Before we lose our nerve.”

The two of them left the _Scavenger’s Rat_ and watched as Balerad flew away, leaving to wait in orbit on the other side of the planet, just in case. Then they both turned and faced the huge doors at the end of the landing platform. They were open, just enough for someone to pass through; almost as if they were inviting. A sick feeling was beginning to roil in Midoriya’s gut, but he fought the urge to turn tail and get back on their ship. _Kacchan might be in there. I have to save him._

The corridor beyond the doors was pitch-black. Almost as one the two of them ignited their lightsabers, throwing white and green light around the huge space. The walls and floor were all smooth, black stone, the ceiling lost somewhere in the darkness above. Little stones dotted the walls, like maybe they were supposed to be lights, though none of them were lit.

“Let’s go,” Todoroki said, his voice hushed; and they began walking.

The sick feeling kept growing. Midoriya couldn’t help looking over his shoulder, convinced that he could hear footsteps following along behind him; but always when he turned he saw nothing. After a long time of walking through dead, quiet halls and trying locked door after locked door, Midoriya whispered, “Shoto, do you feel sick?”

“Yes,” Todoroki whispered. Then, even quieter, he said, “I think this place is strong in the Dark Side.”

Those two words nearly rooted Midoriya to the ground with fear. The Dark Side; the mystical counter to the Light, to their own power. The source, so some Jedi claimed, of all evil in the universe.

“It won’t touch us,” Todoroki said, resting a hand for a moment on Midoriya’s shoulder. “Not if we’re together.”

Something warmed inside Midoriya’s chest, and he nodded.

It was maybe another half hour of wandering before they finally heard a noise other than the pressing silence that had been their constant companion ever since they’d stepped through the doors of this place. At first Midoriya thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him; but then it got louder, harder to ignore. He looked at Todoroki, who nodded; he heard it too.

Whispering, coming from somewhere up ahead.

The words were unintelligible even as they drew closer, even as they finally saw a light other than that of their lightsabers. A door stood ajar several metres down the corridor, and from it poured a deep, blood-red light.

Midoriya went first, slipping through the open door and into the room beyond. He took in little beyond the fact that the red light seemed to come from several holes in the wall; his attention was immediately caught by the figure kneeling in the centre of the room. His back was to the door, but Midoriya would’ve recognised that shock of blond hair anywhere. “Kacchan,” he said, stepping forward.

Todoroki’s hand on his shoulder pulled him back. He was about to protest, but then he saw what Todoroki had spotted; something like black smoke was curling on the floor all around Bakugo, thick and viscous. The sick ache of the Dark Side was stronger here than it had been anywhere else, and when he actually took a second to look around the room, Midoriya saw that the holes around the walls all contained glowing red triangular shapes. “Sith holocrons,” he whispered, stepping back.

“We should-” Todoroki said; but then Bakugo moved, standing slowly, his back still turned toward them.

Midoriya caught Todoroki’s elbow to stop him. “Kacchan?” he said, hating how his voice shook. “It’s us, Deku and Todoroki- we came to save you, Kacchan, are you- are you okay?”

Bakugo let out a weird little laugh. “Yeah, Deku. I’m good,” he said, but he didn’t sound good, and Midoriya had no idea how he knew that, because Bakugo still sounded like himself, only-

“Midoriya, we need to go,” Todoroki hissed, pulling on his arm, but Midoriya wouldn’t be moved.

“What happened, Kacchan?” he asked. “What is this place? Why did you come here?”

“I was invited,” Bakugo said, and finally, he turned around.

His face was still the same, but his eyes- His eyes were a pale, sickly gold.

“K-Kacchan-” Midoriya stuttered.

Todoroki suddenly stopped pulling on his arm, and swore explosively. A second later, Midoriya heard the huge door behind them slam shut.

When he turned, it was to see the Anzat girl, her grin rough and feral. She lit up her bright red lightsaber, giggling as she said, “What good timing, boys. You’re just in time for sparring practise.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [The Anzati are in fact a real Star Wars species that I did not even have to make up.](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Anzat_\(species\))
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
